“What’s going on?”
“Is that General Kroso… and the Archangel?!”
“What are they doing?”
“Guards! Guards!”
“Yikes! Which pervert just groped my butt?!”
“…”
After Toma’s wine glass clattered to the floor, the banquet hall erupted into chaos. Shouts surged in waves.
Seeing the commotion, Kroso still didn’t grasp what happened—but the Archangel’s condition was clearly dire. He couldn’t stay.
Activating Flash Step with her, they instantly reappeared in the parlor where the floor lay shattered.
“Archangel? Are you all right?”
He looked down at the young woman beneath him, frail beyond words. This was the first time Kroso had ever seen the Archangel near death. She’d been weak before, but never like this.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly. Her breath was so faint it was barely audible unless leaned close. Kroso’s heart ached fiercely—he wished he could take her pain himself.
*Why is the Archangel so gravely wounded?*
*Was it… my fault?*
At the thought, guilt twisted his expression.
“Hero… please… let me go…”
Just as Kroso drowned in remorse, a whisper rose beneath him—soft as a single strand of hair tickling his ear.
“Archangel?!”
He jerked his hands back from her wrists as if electrocuted. Guilt and confusion swirled inside him.
“Hero… this isn’t your fault. It was me…”
Seeing his anguished face, Sylvia felt a pang of guilt and hurried to explain. The Corrupted Hero’s Abyss-fueled strike had been devastating. Without her Body of Holy Spirit, she’d have been reduced to pulp. For a heartbeat, her body had begun to shatter—but the sacred power forcibly reassembled her. Still, recovery would take time. Her voice remained faint, delicate.
Kroso couldn’t bear her fragility. Her words confirmed his blame. Self-reproach crushed him.
“I’m sorry… Archangel…”
Subconsciously, he kissed her forehead, then her cheek. Lifting his head, he leaned toward the elegant collarbone peeking from her torn gown. Before tonight, he’d never dare. But after vowing to destroy The Church and reclaim her, his feelings could no longer be held back.
“Mm…?”
Stunned by his natural tenderness, Sylvia only reacted when he moved to kiss her again.
“Not there… Hero…”
She felt his overwhelming remorse and love—and froze. *Why does this feel so natural? Has he truly, hopelessly fallen for me?* Nervously, she tried to raise a hand to stop him. But her injuries made the motion painfully slow.
“Archangel!”
Seeing the faint blush return to her cheeks, Kroso’s heart leaped with joy. He respected her wish—shifting smoothly instead.
*Mwah…*
Gently lifting her fair arm, he bowed like a true guardian knight and kissed her hand. Impeccably gentlemanly. The touch felt startlingly real.
“Eep!”
A tingling jolt shot through her. His slightly damp lips pressed soft, reverent kisses—as if honoring a treasure. Her blush deepened. This time, she didn’t protest. *Let this be punishment for nearly making an unforgivable mistake tonight.*
She shyly averted her gaze. For the first time, she felt pure, unblemished love. *If I accept this… could I find happiness even my past life’s dreams never held?* After all, she’d already found a solution to the Corrupted Hero.
A tiny crack formed in the conviction she’d guarded for so long. Small—but the most crucial first step.
“The Archangel must be inside!”
*Bang!*
A shout rang out. The door swung open—emergency override key used—and royal guards stormed in behind a middle-aged general.
“Kroso…! You scoundrel! How dare you defile such sacred purity!”
The general’s face twisted in shock. Even his spear hand trembled. The guards behind him bristled with hostility.
“It’s fine! The Hero was just—”
Caught off guard by this public exposure, Sylvia hadn’t prepared an explanation.
“Blame me alone. I won’t explain. I’ll go personally to the Fata Interrogation Chamber and submit to The Church’s full review.”
With a gentle gesture silencing her, Kroso raised his hands—ready for restraint. He’d never let the Archangel face this.
Staring at Kroso’s fearless calm, the general stood utterly dumbfounded.
“What… is going on?”
